


its your love i'm lost in

by chocobos



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: “Dude,” Prompto starts, almost incredulously. “You know that like, axe murderers go to things like this, right?”





	its your love i'm lost in

**Author's Note:**

> i have so many other fics i should be working on, but i've been writing this one instead. oops? anyway, i am still working on that monster of a fic i keep mentioning, it's just rather slow going at the moment... 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this! let me know what you think! 
> 
> unbeta'd, but read over extensively by me.

(“You won’t regret this,” Aranea promises him.

Prompto rolls his eyes, because, _really_? Is she actually going there?

“Dude,” he starts, almost incredulously. “You know that like, axe murderers go to things like this, right?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You could meet the love of your life tomorrow night.” She points out, voice sardonic. 

“I could also meet the very sharp end of a very real knife,” Prompto grumbles.

Aranea pats his cheek.

"Ignis will be there," She reminds him. That's valid. It's no real secret to anyone who has spent significant time with him that he has a bit of a crush on the guy. Well, he's plenty sure half of the Crown City does at this point. Noctis, after all, has very attractive retaainers. He supposes it's fitting, but that doesn't make being around Ignis any easier. Somehow, it always ends up being a recipe for disaster. 

"Maybe he'll win the bid on you and whisk you away." 

Prompto snorts; he highly doubts that. 

He has the tendency of sticking his foot in his mouth in front of Ignis.

Prompto makes a face at her, content to pretend his heart isn't racing pathetically in his chest at the thought of something that stupidly romantic. He doesn't know why he even tries. She sees right through him every time. 

“Now you’re just giving a man false hope.”)

 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

 

It's the night of the auction, and Prompto's surprisingly coping better with his anxiety than he anticipated. 

He's still nervous, especially about accidentally getting bid on by a serial killer, but he really only thinks of that once every twenty minutes or so. That's pretty bearable for him.

In a stroke of good fortune, he's pretty successful at distracting himself for the day; he whines at Noctis a bit, edits some photos and updates his portfolio. 

The sudden rush of productivity means he doesn't have time to worry about it at all. 

Unfortunately, he's making up for it now. 

The only reason he's doing this is because Aranea is his sister, and he knows she wouldn't bid him off to someone who would really hurt him. And anyway, it's only a single date. Prompto can deal with a horrible night with some stranger if it makes Aranea happy. He might want to invest in some pepper spray. 

To be safe. 

Prompto looks at himself in the mirror and sighs. 

He has no idea what to wear. He wants to dress nice, obviously, but  _sophisticated_ nice. I-have-money nice. He wants to at least get some bids. The only thing worse than getting too many bids is getting none. 

He straightens out his plain white dress shirt, and after a moment of consideration grabs his deep purple waistcoat from his closet. He shrugs it on, buttoning it up with clumsy fingers. Prompto doesn't have to wear clothes like this all that often, which is a blessing. 

Dry cleaning is expensive, and he's never been all that gifted at budgeting. 

Prompto throws on the gray blazer he's had since high school on top of it and runs a nervous hand through his hair. It's sticky from gel but he can't find it to care more than reaching over to wipe it off on his comforter. Astrals, this is going to be a disaster, isn't it?

"Shit." Prompto curses. "What did I get myself into this time?"

"A night of fun," Aranea says, from behind him. "And alcohol, if nothing else."

He curses all over again. 

"I regret giving you a key even more each time you do that," he complains. 

"That does nothing to take the fun out of it," She laughs, though not unkindly. Aranea levels him with a look in the mirror, clearing her throat. She sobers up, walking close to knock their shoulders together. 

"You don't have to do this, shortcake." 

Prompto feels a warm pang in his chest. 

"How diplomatic of you, Aranea. But, I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle it." 

He just loves to complain. 

"I know. I'm only saying the offer is there, in case you need it." 

Prompto shrugs. "Nah, you're right, anyway. I honestly could use a completely-not-terrible date. I haven't been on one of those in a long time." 

“That’s the spirit,” Aranea mockingly cheers.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with before I really regret this,” Prompto mutters.

The sooner he’s done with this, the sooner he can see himself to the nearest bar.

 

 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

 

The venue Aranea's company books is as nice and extravagant as he expects. 

Apparently, there's a lot of money to be made in the private security business, who knew. The Crown City is relatively safe, but there's still plenty of opportunistic criminals. Prompto worked for her a while back when he was waiting for his photography career to gain traction. Unfortunately, this also means he recognizes plenty of people behind the scenes. 

That only makes this more embarrassing. 

"You look like you need a drink," Aranea says and leads him into a conference room. It's very nice, with varying tones of red curtains and a classy overall design that makes Prompto feel unsettled. What's a room hiding, to be this nice? There's even an Espresso machine and a coffee bar in a corner. 

"Coffee is the last thing I need right now." 

Prompto wouldn't sleep tonight. Again. 

"Not coffee, kiddo," she corrects him, reaching into one of her pockets and pulls out a flask. He's not surprised if he's being honest, and he takes it when she holds it out to him. A swig or two  _would_ help ease his anxiety a bit. He feels like this entire experience will be less painful overall if he can take the edge off. 

"You have the best ideas," Prompto tells her, before knocking it back and taking a long pull. 

“Watch it.”

Prompto laughs and hands the flask back to her.

“ _Fine_ ,” he whines. “I’ll save getting drunk until after my fate is sealed.”

“I’ll even buy you a drink or two.”

“My hero,” he jokes.

He’s not really kidding, but luckily she’s great at not calling him out on it.

 

 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

 

Prompto doesn't know what he's doing. 

He's camped out in one of the bathrooms. He doesn't have to be on stage for another twenty minutes, and passing the time with some porcelain seems better than sitting in the common area where everyone can stare at him. 

Now that he's thinking about it, maybe hiding out like this isn't any better. In fact, he's almost certain of it. 

"Ah, pardon me, Prompto. You're blocking the paper towels," someone says from behind him. 

Prompto jumps (very minutely, he'd like to stress) and turns around, blush on his cheeks and ears are already burning fires across his skin. 

Of course, it's Ignis. 

He feels like Shiva's laughing at him. Not only is the object of his repressed affections in front of him, they're possibly in the most awkward place imaginable. He's undoubtedly going to say something damning. He always does. 

Ignis, miraculously, doesn't seem to be annoyed already.  

" _Sorry,_ " Prompto squeaks, voice an octave higher than normal. This is already going horribly but at least it'll be over soon. Then he can get this nightmare over with and drown his sorrows in his sister's unimpressed stares. It'll be awesome. He can feel it. 

Really, though. Of all places to meet Ignis again. They don't see each other that much, despite both of them being best friends with the prince. Prompto takes every opportunity to avoid Ignis, despite how much it annoys Noctis. He's pretty sure the dude hates him, anyway, and while Prompto's definitely a little bit of a masochist, that's a little too much for him. 

Prompto realizes he still hasn't moved, and now Ignis is looking at him like he's concerned. Hee jumps out of the way immediately, blush searing all the brighter from his mistake. 

Why does his brain melt into goo whenever Ignis simply looks at him? It’s unfair.

“Do you need me to retrieve your sister?”

Prompto’s attention snaps back to Ignis.

“What?” He asks, incredulously.

“You’re rather red,” Ignis tells him.

Prompto stares at him for a long moment. “I’m not going to be sick or anything, man, if that’s what you worried about.”

Ignis’ mouth twitches at his tone.

He assumes it’s because he’s annoying him like he usually does.

“You look quite vexed,” Ignis tells him, finally reaching forward for a paper towel.

 _Vexed_ , Prompto mouths to himself.

“Did you, uh, have a chance to take a look at the auction list?”

“I haven’t, no,” says Ignis.

“Oh,” he starts. “Aranea put a date with me up for auction tonight.”

Ignis' expression stays carefully neutral, though he does raise an eyebrow. “Do you not want to?”

“No, no! I mean, well, no? Not really? I’m mainly hoping I don’t get taken home for a slash and dash...if you know what I mean.”

Prompto doesn't believe the smile that takes over Ignis' face. It's not like the dude never smiled or anything like that, but he isn't used to having it directed towards  _him_. He's secretly grateful Ignis doesn't seem to find him very amusing. Prompto's not sure what continued exposure to his smile would do to his internal organs. 

He averts his gaze after his stomach does a particularly worrying somersault. 

“Date and eviscerate, if you will.”

Ignis’ words take a while to sink in, but once they do, and he realizes the other man is playing along. Prompto can’t help but grin up at him.

“Exactly. I’m not about that life, Ignis.”

Ignis’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a shimmer in the air Prompto can’t quite identify, and then his best friend’s advisor is slipping something sharp and shiny into his hand.

When his eyes focus on the dagger in his hand, he yelps and almost drops it in his haste. He doubts Ignis would take very kindly to that.

“What, you want me to _stab_ them?” He asks, incredulously.

Ignis chuckles. 

"I'd hope not. But, if you feel that unsafe, then please take this to defend yourself. I don't think I need to stress how important it is you don't use this irresponsibly?" 

That's...sweet. That's sweet, right? Prompto thinks so. But, he thinks pretty much everything Ignis does is endearing. Perhaps he's a bit biased. 

"I'll never get over the fact that you can summon these from anywhere," Prompto says, reverently smoothing his fingers over Ignis' dagger. It's a nice dagger. 

Ignis' mouth twitches again. 

"Simple fetching," he says, amused. 

"That's still pretty cool, dude." He offers Ignis the dagger and shrugs. "But, I think I can handle myself without it." 

"I doubt you'll need it, regardless," Ignis says, in a tone Prompto's never heard before. Another shimmer and his hands are free again. "Aranea surely had the guest list vetted before asking you to partake in the event." 

Now that he thinks about it, that's a good point. 

Prompto grins at him. "You can never be too vigilant." 

"Indeed." Ignis turns towards the door. "I'll see you, yes?" 

"Hell yeah, man! Catch ya later." 

Prompto watches the other man exit the bathroom and contemplates smashing his face into the bathroom mirror. 

Ignis is just, so, so very beautiful, and Prompto is a _mess_.

 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

He wonders how weird it is that their smoothest conversation took place in a bathroom. Prompto doesn’t think he wants to know what it says about him.

 

 

 

-☆-

 

 

 

It seems like no time passes at all before Aranea is calling him to the stage. He feels like he's floating on  _clouds_. He had a conversation with Ignis Scientia and he didn't make an ass out of himself. This is momentous. 

When he gets on stage, the first thing he notices is that the lights are so bright he has to squint at them, blinking back black spots dancing across his vision. 

Prompto's willing to admit it's a small comfort that he can barely see anybody's face. 

"Our last bid for tonight has offered to go out on a date with the winner," Aranea says, smiling smugly. 

Prompto snorts self-deprecatingly. 

Lucky. Right. If anything, he almost feels like he should be paying them to go out with him. 

She nudges his shoulder. "Say hello, Prompto." 

 

“Uh, heyaz?” He says, half-heartedly.

“His awkwardness is part of the charm. The bidding will go up by increments of two-fifty. Let’s start the bidding at fifteen-hundred gil.”

To say Prompto's surprised when half a dozen hands shoot up into the air is an understatement. He's about knocked unconscious when he realizes one of those people is  _Ignis_.

What? Is he more worried about Prompto going home with a creep than he let on?

Prompto pushes that thought aside. Ignis isn't interested in snagging the date, obviously. He's helping out his charge's best friend, simple Ignis stuff. 

"Seventeen-fifty," Aranea calls out. Five hands shoot up this time. 

Ignis is still one of them. 

"Two thousand." 

Ignis raises his hand. 

Prompto's heart gives an answering thud in his chest. 

"Three thousand," Ignis offers. Prompto's jaw drops to the floor and his cheeks flood red in front of everyone to see, but at least most people won't be able to make it out from so far away. 

Aranea subtly nudges his shoulder again. 

"Three thousand gil. Anyone else?" She pauses. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. "No? Okay. Congratulations." 

Prompto forces himself to meet  Ignis' gaze, and telepathically sends increasingly panicked rapid-fire questions to the other man. Most of them start with 'what' and end in 'fuck'. 

"Off the stage, squirt," She says, waving a hand insistently at him. She uses her free hand to cover the microphone. "Go thank your generous bidder." 

 _Shark tank_ , Prompto mouths. She only smirks at him, turning to the audience to begin her closing remarks. His feet carry him off the stage of their own volition, and once he's finally off, he has no idea what to do. He should talk to Ignis, definitely. Tell him that he's thankful he got him out of a pickle, but Ignis doesn't actually have to go on a date with him. 

That would be completely out of character, obviously. Before tonight, he could say with absolute certainty Ignis didn't like him.

In the end, he decides to follow Aranea's advice. Their conversation earlier wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been -- as it  _has_ been -- and he can probably get through another one. Prompto's gotten pretty good at running his mouth over the years. 

"Dude," Prompto begins, approaching Ignis' table. And then he stops because he hasn't really thought about what he wants to say. The words all bleed together in his mouth, collapsing in his throat. 

Ignis, who doesn’t miss a beat, says, “Ah, there are you are, Prompto.”

“Here I am,” Prompto replies, voice strangled.

“Was it as bad as you feared?”

Prompto doesn’t know.

Was it?

“Depends. You’re not going to auction off the date on the black market, are you?”

Ignis snorts.

“That hadn’t been on the short list, no.”

Prompto discreetly lets out a breath. “In that case,  I also gotta go with no on that one, Iggy.”

Delicate pink blush splatters onto Ignis’ cheeks. On anyone else, Prompto would say they were _pleased_. Maybe on Ignis, too.

“Then I’d like to ask you to dinner.”

Prompto loses his footing and almost collapses into one of the chairs.

“Dude, you _have_ a date with me.” He reminds Ignis. “Remember?”

“A proper date,” Ignis corrects him. Prompto’s stomach drops out. Why did he win the bid, then? Prompto shakes himself. “Truthfully, I wasn't planning on participating in the auction.”

“What?”

“You seemed rather nervous about tonight,” says Ignis.

“Absolutely mortified,” Prompto admits.

“Well, I couldn’t have let you fall victim to a dreadful evening, now could I?” He explains, amusement lacing his voice. Prompto’s cheeks warm. Did Ignis bid on him just to ensure he didn’t have a shitty date?

Prompto melts. 

 

“Thank you, Iggy. From saving me from a certain doom,” says Prompto, jokingly. He straightens up, though, and bites his lip. “You actually want to go on a date, though? With me?”

Ignis looks a little nervous if that's possible. Prompto didn't think it was, before now, but it's clearly written in the lines of his face. Not that he thought Ignis was emotionless or anything, but the dude has composure to an incomparable level. And Prompto's a right mess on the best of days, honestly. 

Ignis is deliberate in all the ways Prompto isn't.

"I'm fond of you, Prompto." 

Everything  _stops_.

“Oh,” he breathes, choked. “Like, for realsies? Holy shit." 

Ignis chuckles. 

"Is it really so surprising?" 

"Uh, yeah? Iggy, I thought you only put up with me because of Noct." 

"Perhaps I was better at hiding my feelings than I thought," Ignis muses. "I'll admit I've been able to think of little else than you." 

Prompto  _does_ fall into a chair this time, brain catching on Ignis' words. He takes a deep breath. This all feels a little surreal. Loving Ignis has become a permanent fixture in his life, but it had always been a detached one. Prompto's never had to fully confront his feelings for Ignis. He never thought he stood a chance. 

He's daydreamed enough about this, though. He may not have expected this, but he's sure as hell going to roll with it. 

Prompto's not an idiot. 

"And how was I?" is what he finally asks. 

Ignis makes a confused noise. 

"Pardon?"

Prompto grins. "At hiding my feelings, of course." 

That catches the other man off guard, and he can feel Ignis' gaze on the side of his face. He can't bring himself to look at Ignis quite yet, but he does reach out a hand and place it palm up on the table. An offer. 

Ignis takes it.

Prompto gently squeezes his hand. 

"I'll go on a date with you, Iggy. Two of them, even," Prompto says and smiles at him. He clears his throat and leans into Ignis' space. "How about we have our first one right now? I'm  _starving_. Wanna go grab some burgers?" 

It's hard to picture Ignis hunkered over fast food burgers, but Prompto was over being here hours ago, and he finds he doesn't want to leave Ignis' company yet. Now that everything's out in the open, Prompto finds there's not much else he wants to do unless it's with him. 

Ignis, however, simply returns his smile, and Prompto tucks it close against his chest. Ignis' smiles were always worth keeping. 

"Certainly." 

Prompto beams. 

**Author's Note:**

> happy ffxv day!!!!!!
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
